Hunter's Moon Chapter 3: Awaken
by Teh Scaley
Summary: Chapter 3 of Hunter's Moon


The battle between the Sith and the General continued, breaking out of her initial confinement area and working its way through floor after floor of the immense ship. They continued their duel, twin hurricanes of metal and light, through the corridors, the elevator shafts, and even the bridge of the Trade Federation ship itself, slicing through droids, consoles, and more without the slightest hint of care.

Though the battle continued on for hours, a stretch of time that would have proven impossible for a mere living warrior, neither of the combatants truly tired. They continued to fight, proof of the inexhaustible stamina of machines that the corporate executives that made up the Separatist council had vaunted when they each bought their separate droid armies.

The Sith's right hand extended two fingers, moving them ever slightly. A droid, finding itself in an invisible yet steel hard Force grip, flew through the air and slammed into Grievous, catching the general by surprise and knocking him back into a console. Her follow-up blow, a downward strike with both sabers at the other cyborg's face, was accompanied by a screeching howl of triumph. This was to be the final blow.

However, as she prepared herself for the soft hissing of her sabers cutting through metal and whatever remained of the alien inside, her hyper extended reflexes noted as the General's alloy talons made their presence known on the sides of her face, scratching the metal, split seconds before his durasteel heel impacted her square in the face like a sledgehammer, cutting her momentum entirely and throwing her backwards through the air like a rag doll.

Grievous rose to his feet with a genteel grace that belied the beating he'd just taken, observing the bridge's current state. They'd done a rather extraordinary amount of damage to it in so short a time; it was likely better if they dueled elsewhere, for the ship's sake at least. This, of course, was not his own Invisible Hand, but a good commander does not waste an entire ship for his personal amusement.

"Let us take this outside," he said, seizing a disembodied droid's head and hurling it over the female's shoulder. The metal cranium hit precisely where the targeting computers synced to his neural systems projected it would, hitting the precise center of the window's most heavily damaged section, and shattering said glass on impact. Reacting to the immutable laws on the universe, the air began to rush out of the bridge, sucking everything that wasn't welded down into the dark void of space, including the two warriors.

Grievous, however, did not drift away into nothingness. The magnetic clamps mounted within the metal talons on his feet clamped firmly onto the hull of the ship, holding him firmly in place. Reacting with a warrior's insight, he immediately sought out the Sith, both blades ready to continue battle. When he saw her, however, it was evident that she was not faring as well as he.

With one desperately grasping hand, she held to the window frame for dear life, unable to fight back without the risk of losing her hold and drifting into the void. Now completely at his mercy, she looked at him, her featureless mask still somehow conveying wide-eyed anticipation, awaiting her end.

The General considered this situation carefully. Had she been any lesser foe, he would have ended her without hesitation. In this case though, he did not find such an end fitting for one who had given him such a challenge. Although a rogue Sith, he found her to have immense potential beneath the corrupt teachings of those decrepit old sorcerers.

Placing his left hand saber back on his belt, he grasped her by the arm, and then threw her onto the ship, allowing her to get a proper foothold on the metal casing. He then reactivated his saber, stood at the ready, and prepared to continue their duel. If she would not break, then he would make her end honorable.

The she-Sith simply nodded to Grievous, making sure she had herself centered before entering her own stance.

The two once again stared each other down. Several moments of nothing but the utter absence of sound in the void. Not the roar of the engine, the hum of the saber. Nothing. Just the dead silence of the space between the stars…

She finally struck at him again, attacking with an upward slash, to which the General responded by simply sidestepping. She attacked again, this time with a sudden jab to the midsection. Again he retreated. She attacked once more, twirling like a dancer to strike at him with the saber gripped within the coils of her tail. He responded with his own strike, not at her blade, but just beneath it, cleanly severing the tip of her tail, and rendering the saber held by it harmless. She dodged away, lashing out at him fiercely with her remaining blade. He deflected it easily with his own pair, and when she pressed the issue, a sudden saber push from Grievous sent her stumbling back. 

She was back to her feet in an instant, her feet managing to stay tight to the ship so she did not float away. She swiped again with her remaining lightsaber, hoping to strike Grievous, but struck only void. He was gone, running the length of the ship, already distant from her. Without a second thought, she followed.

The general continued running across the ship for a long length of time, before finally disappearing into one of the hanger bays, through the blue shield that contained its precious atmosphere. The she-Sith bolted right after him, soon jumping off of the wall of the hangar and landing upon the floor. With the risk of drifting away gone, she regained some of her former confidence.

The female cyborg held her saber up, prepared for attack. But Grievous was nowhere to be seen. Hidden amongst the number of droid ships docked there, no doubt. And there was only one way to deal with this. 

Her free claw reached out, grasping at the air with her claws for a few moments and then thrusting sideways as if throwing the very air aside. A Vulture fighter ripped free of its mountings before it followed her control and skated across the hangar floor, slamming hard into three more ships. Her claw moved again to the other side of the hangar and the gantries hanging overhead snapped their connections and plummeted downwards on top of a row of MTTs at her order.

She stood there for some moments, watching. "Come out and face me, coward!" Her command resonated through the spacious room. "End this nonsense, cyborg!"

She threw her remaining saber away, raising both hands before her. Two massive Trade Federation drop ships began to groan and move within the grasp of the mysterious Force she wielded. She threw her hands upwards, sending both suddenly crashing into the ceiling. Then she threw them to the side, their quadruple wings bending and snapping as they impacted the hard walls, smashing tri-fighters into tin foil in their wake, then slumping to the ground. Another violent gesture sent the entire pile of rubble flying towards an immaculately arranged line of Vulture fighters, splintering them like twigs before driving even those fragments into yet another area of the hangar, leaving the entire room in chaos and ruin.

A tingling in the back of her head warned her of imminent danger. She barely had time to see Grievous' armored foot swoop out of nowhere before it drove her face first into the durasteel floor, the claws puncturing the metal and pinning her tightly.

"You're losing focus, Sith. This is what happens when your emotions take over – you become foolish." He crushed her head further in his claws. "Nothing more then a retarded child," he snarled behind his mask. "Now admit your defeat and submit to me, your new master."

She looked about feverishly, trying to see some way out of this predicament. Nothing availed itself to her that could match the General's quicksilver speed.

"I…" She began, but found the words hard to spit out. So much of her life, she had spent finding power… and then he came along, matching her power… defeating her… perhaps….perhaps this was the one. Perhaps he was the worthy master she had spent years searching for… 

"I submit to you, my master." The words finally came, meticulously rendered in the same voice of her old flesh by her cyborg body's vocoder.

The sabers dissipated and Grievous' foot released her. "Swear your loyalty to me," he commanded.

She knelt before Grievous, bowing respectfully, as she remembered doing so for her Sith master long ago. "You have proven to be a power far beyond mine. I promise myself to you, master. To follow your teachings without question and perform whatever action you ask without hesitation. I swear upon my life, and may my life be taken at your hand should I ever betray you, my master." She did not realize how she had longed to say such words again, all those years of death seemed to deafen her to her desire of power and to everything else she yearned for. The things Grievous seemed to offer her.

Pleased, he nodded to her. "Such extremes will not be taken, I'm certain, my apprentice." His voice was beginning to sink a few octaves as he spoke. Grievous inhaled deeply. "From henceforth… you shall be known as…" He inhaled deeply, what was left of organic lungs performing their function within his metal body. Peering off into the distance, his voice seemed to take on a whole new identity; deep and menacing. "…Masquerade…" His voice whispered this, as if plucking her new identity from the dark void of space itself.

--- 

She awoke.


End file.
